


The Redemption of Quirinus Quirrell

by themadmarchhare42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demonic Possession, Gen, Possession, Quirrell is an innocent, Voldemort controls Quirrell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadmarchhare42/pseuds/themadmarchhare42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to the Philosophers Stone. I always thought Quirrell deserved redemption. In this version Dumbledore and Mcgonagle have intercepted Harry just before he entered the chamber to meet Quirrell. However, it turns out that Quirrell was nothing but an innocent bystander to the events. No pairings (Definately NOT flipping Quirrellmort!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Redemption of Quirinus Quirrell

"Harry Potter!" A voice cut through the air sternly. Harry spun round, the empty potion bottle clattering to the ground, to see Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall striding towards him, seemingly out of nowhere.  
"Professors!" Harry gaped "What are you-"  
"We might as well ask you the same thing, Potter." McGonagall snapped "What in the Lord's name are you trying to do?"  
"Mam, I think the stone's in danger. Snape-"  
"I am well aware of Snape, Harry." Dumbledore told him "And I know that he has no intention of getting the stone."  
"But, he sent fluffy to sleep. He let the troll in! He was trying to get the stone!" Harry babbled "It's him! I'll show you!"  
Harry turned to the wall of flames, the potion allowing him to step forward towards the flames while feeling no heat. Dumbledore caught his shoulder.  
"Be careful, Harry." He warned "There could be anything waiting on the other side of those flames."  
Harry nodded and stepped through, the professor's in tow.

The cavern they were in looked like the Grand Hall, only slightly smaller and squatter, the ceiling barely half the height of the Grand Hall. The mirror of Erised stood in the centre, the flames reflected in the glass giving it an eerie crimson glow.  
In front of the mirror stood a figure, standing for the first time without a cower in his stance, staring into the mirror as if looking beyond the reflection. The figure wasn't Snape. Snape never wore a turban.  
"You?" Harry gasped. There, standing before them, clad in his purple robes, stood Professor Quirrell. He turned round slowly, a sharp look in his eye; his terror and anxious look that had permanently dawned his face gone, replaced with a dark, hating glance at the three wizards.  
"Ah, my three favourite warlocks." Quirrell smiled, his stutter gone, again replaced with a dark tone of one who has power and knows it. "You've just arrived in time to enjoy the show..."  
"Quirinus, what is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore asked, eyes wide. He had known it wasn't Severus, but he hadn't been expecting to see the usually timid teacher here.  
"Oh are you really that stupid, Albus?" Quirrell asked "It hasn't been that long since we last spoke, and you don't recognise me?"  
His eyes suddenly glowed an ominous red before returning to their normal blue; Dumbledore took a step back.  
"Voldemort…"  
Quirrell, or rather Voldemort, clapped his hands sarcastically  
"Well DONE, Albus. You've finally caught up."  
"You want the stone…" Dumbledore muttered  
"What have you done with Quirinus?" Mcgonagle demanded  
"Its simple you see. two birds, one stone. I could sneak into the school under this perfect facade, and, such as now, I was ever discovered, you wouldn't dare cast harm on my current form for fear of harming dear, innocent, wouldn't-harm-fly, PATHETIC s-s-stammering P-p-professor Quirrell."  
"You won't get away with this."  
"I would say I already have, but I so hate cliches." Voldemort drawled, turning back to the mirror  
"Says the man who went for the 'Most innocent person turning out to be the bad guy' cliche to sneak in hear in the first place."  
"You have a sharp tongue, Potter." Voldemort snapped sharply, turning back round to face them "But it will do you no good here…"  
"You will never get the stone." Dumbledore snarled  
"My dear Albus." Voldemort smiled with a lizardy-sliminess "I didn't become, as you say, the Dark Lord, without being able to overcome such SIMPLE magic as this mirror. What am I? A CHILD!?" He laughed. "I tricked you all, and your magical scrutiny for months. Your dear professor hasn't been with us since Albania, though you never suspected for a second… None except Severus of course, but he was always so much faster than you lot. Professor Quirrell was apparently his FRIEND. Though I don't believe it for a moment. How can a freak such as Quirinus Quirrell" he spat out the name "Have friends?"  
"What have you done to him?" Albus demanded, his voice raising in anger. How dare he harm one of his staff? How dare he be here, threatening his pupils? "Where is he?"  
"My dear Albus." Voldemort smiled "He's right here…" He tapped the side of his head. "Trapped, of course, since Day One. He can see you all, but he can't do anything to stop me doing whatever I want. Would you like to see him?"  
His body jolted slightly, as if taken by some kind of spasm or fit, before his demeanour changed. His eyes became wild, desperate; his breathing haggard as if straining against some great force.  
"Albus…" Quirrell panted, begging with complete desperation, wincing as if in utter agony "Minerva… Help me… Please!"  
He cried out in agony, bending his back backwards as if being pulled backwards, choked as if wanting to say more, but then he retuned to his cool, collected state, his breathing normal and his face plain; Voldemort in charge once more.  
"You're sick…." Minerva rasped. Voldemort laughed.  
"What? You CARE for this good for nothing worm? When I came across him he was hiding in a cave after being attacked by some kind of Vampire. He was no match for me. He's nothing but a weak, cowardly MUD-BLOOD."  
Minerva drew in a breath at this in horror. Harry looked between them, unable to understand the immensity of meaning of the word.  
"Of course, your magic mirror would not give away the stone to just anyone. But you missed a vital clue, Albus. You could get the stone if you were able to pass through the glass…"  
"What do you mean?"  
All of a sudden, thick black smoke began to emerge from Quirrell, through his clothes and twisting out of his mouth. There was an agonising scream of pain from the professor as wave apon wave of smoke poured from him. The trio stood, unable to do anything but watch. Barely a minute after, all the smoke was spent and, with a whimper, Quirrell crumpled up the floor, unconscious.  
The smoke, now free of it's host, began to twist and form, until it became the image of a tall, cloaked figure. The danger to the professor now not an issue, the two teachers began to fire spell after spell at the cloud of smoke, but to no avail, each blow deflected away with barely a hand wave of the smoke-man. It was reaching out, towards the mirror, through the glass; the stone was in its hands!  
In a wave of panic, Harry drew out his wand and bellowed the first spell he could think of. When he recalled the scene later he couldn't remember what spell it was, he only remembered the smoke man twisted, let out a high pitched scream of anguish; the stone dropped through his hand and he shot forward, barrelling straight through Harry and into the abyss of the darkness beyond the chamber, leaving Harry crumpled on the steps.

As the Dark Lord dissipated into the darkness, Dumbledore leapt into action, his protective instincts taking control once more.

"I'll see to Harry; get the professor to safety!" Albus told Mcgonagle, bundling Harry up in his arms and carrying him up the stairs.  
Mcgonagle raced over to the unconscious Quirrell and picked him up, following the path back to the exit.

Harry woke to the sound of murmuring. He was in the hospital wing, a pile of sweets to his right, a toilet seat propped against the bedside cabinate. Harry rolled his eyes. Fred and George.  
He looked round for the source of the murmuring and found that Professor Quirrell was in the next bed along from him. He was turning his head to and fro, his turban a mess and his eyes clamped shut as if in pain.  
'Help… Got to stop….. V-Voldemort… Stone… He can't get the…. Stone… Warn potter… Harry… He wants to hurt… Harry…'  
"Professor?" Harry asked, leaning over to nudge his arm. All of a sudden, Quirrell snapped his eyes open and sat up.  
"No!" He screamed in terror  
"Professor!" Harry leapt up out of bed, holding his shoulder to stop him getting up and hurting himself. "Professor, it's ok. You're safe."  
"P-p-potter?" Quirrell stammered, staring at the boy as if unable to conceive that the boy was really there, next to him "….where… Where am I?"  
"Hogwarts. The medical wing in Hogwarts."  
"V-voldemort…" Quirrell began "He…"  
"Voldemort has gone, Quirinus." A voice came from behind them, causing Quirrell to jump. Harry spun round to see Dumbledore walking towards them, Mcgonagle in tow.  
"A-Albus…" Quirrell cowered away in fear of the great wizard. "Minerva…" His eyes suddenly grew wide, as all the fuzzy memories clicked into place "Oh god! Albus! Minerva! I'm sorry! I couldn't…. The Dark Lord, he…"  
"Don't worry, Quirinus." Mcgonagle told him reassuringly "We know everything."  
"The stone. D-did he?"  
"The stone is safe." Dumbledore reassured Quirrell, cutting him off before the professor got to worked up into a panic. "But we have decided to destroy it."  
"Destroy it?" Harry asked, taken aback. "Me and Nicholas Flamell have discussed it and we both agree that it is to dangerous to keep." Dumbledore explained calmly. "But he'll die…" "He has enough elixir left to put his affairs in order." Dumbledore told him "And anyway, as he tells me, living for over two hundred years does put a lot of strain on your joints. He'll be glad of the rest."  
"I s-s-suppose I'm going to Askaban then…" Quirrell spoke up, hanging his head. To his surprise, Albus shook his head  
"Not at all, Quirinus. It may take a while, but with the memory's taken from your mind into the memory pool in my office, I think the ministry will believe your story."  
"With any luck, you can return to work within… Oh a month…  
If you wish to, of course…"  
"Really? You mean it?" Quirinus sat up again. He cried out as a jolt of pain ran through him.  
"Careful, Quirinus!" Mcgonagle warned "You're barely rested and you're still injured."  
Harry only then began to notice how injured the professor actually was. His face and arms, from what was visible under the bandages, aside from being unnaturally pail, was covered in cuts and bruises, as well as several harsh burns; painful side effects caused by Voldemort's unnatural emergence from his unwilling host.  
"And you too, Potter." Mcgonagle continued.  
Harry, suddenly aware of his own body, felt a sullen ache in his head and looked at his arms to find them covered in similar bandages, though not as numerous as Quirrell's.  
"Into bed, Harry." Dumbledore told him "Otherwise I won't let Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger to visit you. They're waiting outside."  
Harry nodded, smiling at the mention of his friends. He paused, before getting into bed, turning back to Quirrell.  
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what was the turban for?"  
Quirinus smiled at the mention of it, repositioning one of the stands of cloth as he spoke.  
"H-his idea, I'm afraid." He told him "B-baldness is an unfortunate side effect of possession. I-I-It would have caused some difficult questions for him, for a man barely in his t-t-twenties to have gone completely b-bald barely a short while after leaving with a f-full head of hair…"  
"It'll grow back." Dumbledore told him "Especially with some of Professor Sprout's potion inside you." He nodded to the green bottle of dosconcertingly bubbling liquid on the table beside him. Quirinus grimaced.  
"I n-n-never like medicine…" He admitted  
"Well tough." Mcgonagle told him sternly. They exchanged a glance and then broke into a smile, both recalling their school days where they where nay inseparable friends.  
"It's good to have you back, Quirinus." She said.  
"Me to." He admitted. "It's nice to be able to move my arms again, as well."  
Bidding their farewells to them both, Dumbledore and Mcgonagle left the hospital wing. Harry lay back on his bed, sparing a glance at the professor who was staring in awe as he moved his arms. He thought about how it must feel, trapped in your own mind, watching as someone else controlled you like a puppet… He shivered. A few seconds later and two familiar faces appeared at the door.  
"Harry!"  
Harry smiled. Things were just about back to normal….


End file.
